by Alex Kava
What the place lacked in space it made up for in view. The apartment was above a marina shop. It had its own entrance, even a small balcony that looked out over the boats. And just beyond that was the Gulf of Mexico. She could sit out and watch the sun sink into the sparkling emerald waters.
Her first two nights she woke up out there, disoriented by the sky full of stars and trying to remember where the hell she was. She kept reminding herself that vodka was not her friend, although most nights, it was her only friend.
She’d found this apartment on her own, unlike the job. The job had been arranged. It was a part of the favor-packet, the one she’d signed with the devil. She was proud of the fact that she had managed to get this place on her own. She was driving by when the marina shop owner was literally putting the “apartment for rent” sign in his window.
He looked a bit like Zeus or what Taylor imagined the Greek god would look like. Howard was a giant of a man with longish white hair to match his beard. He wore white trousers and a button-down shirt splattered with colorful images of fish.
He told her he was picky about who lived above his shop, and he honestly appeared unfazed by her feminine wiles. Yes, that was a silly thing to call it, but Taylor was well aware that she was a master at the art of shamelessly flirting. Just when she was certain she’d overplayed her hand, she let it slip that she was a nurse. Her occupation seemed to please him.
“It might be nice to have someone around who didn’t wince at the sight of blood.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant. She didn’t ask. Didn’t really want to know. It got her the apartment. He even helped carry up her bags. The duffel with the army insignia raised his eyebrows.
“Afghanistan,” she said.
That was all she had to say. She could immediately tell it was enough to be golden in Howard’s view.
Partly, that was the problem on night one. He’d invited her down on his dock for a nightcap. She already knew there was nothing seductive or manipulative about his offer. It was simply an old army war veteran wanting to have a drink with another. How could she turn him down when she knew she’d just landed the best rental deal on the beach?
Besides, it turned out that Howard was one the last decent, honorable guys she’d met in a long time. Especially now that John Lockett hadn’t even bothered to leave her a voice message. A man she thought might genuinely be after her heart, not just her body.
She’d met Lockett back in Virginia just before she’d left. They’d dated for two weeks. Two weeks that weren’t just about sex. Then a couple of days ago he showed up in Pensacola. Him and that big, ole dog.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he told her.
They’d taken a walk on the beach. Had a lunch of grouper sandwiches at Peg Leg Pete’s. But she didn’t invite him back to her new apartment. She tried a second time to make him understand that she wanted to be in her son’s life again, and she couldn’t have any other distractions.
He wanted to help. Promised to not be a distraction.
She told him she’d think about it. She left Peg Leg Pete’s taking a detour to walk on the beach again. She wasn’t in love with Lockett, but he was a decent guy. Maybe she needed to give him a chance. Before she got back to her apartment her cell phone started ringing, and for a second or two there was a flutter in her stomach that tried to convince her to let him stay.
But it wasn’t John Lockett. It was the devil, reminding her of their deal. Reminding her that she had promised to stay out of trouble. That if she wanted his help to get her son back, she’d need to “clean up her act.”
Derrick, the devil, wasn’t wrong. She did attract trouble and most of it the male persuasion. Hell, he was evidence of that, wasn’t he? A smooth, charming, silver tongued...forked tongued devil.
But John Lockett wasn’t like that. And how did Derrick even know about Lockett? Did he have someone following her? He didn’t call Lockett by name, but he knew she was having lunch with someone.
She didn’t dare ask that day. She didn’t ask any questions. Instead, twenty minutes later she called Lockett, telling him he needed to go back to Virginia. She thought she’d been gentle, using phrases like, “I hope you understand” and “maybe in the future.”
She wasn’t sure why she still expected him to call her. Just to let her know he arrived back in Virginia safely. What would it matter?
Why did it matter?
William mattered. He was all that mattered.
That’s what Taylor needed to focus on. That’s what she wanted more than anything else. And evidently, she was allowed one wish and only one wish from the man she knew could help make her wish a reality.
For too long she had wanted to correct the biggest mistake she’d ever made...giving up her son. Deep down she understood there’d be a tremendous price to pay for that.
That was a couple of days ago. She checked her phone again. Lockett should have arrived back in Virginia by now. Would it have killed him to let her know he was okay?
She changed into shorts, sports bra, T-shirt and running shoes, anxious to clear her mind. She grabbed her phone to slide it into a zippered pocket, when suddenly she stopped.
Taylor stared at her cell phone. Was it possible he was tracking her? Why hadn’t she considered that before?
This was ridiculous. Maybe it was time to force his hand. Make him put up or shut up. She’d been here for three weeks. Two weeks on the job. And Derrick still hadn’t arranged for a meeting with her son’s grandparents. How many more hoops did he expect her to jump through? How long did he think he could dangle her hopes in front of her without delivering?
In Afghanistan she had dodged sniper fire and listened almost nightly to IEDs going off outside the wire. There were times when she wore her shoulder holster with her 9-millimeter handgun even during surgeries. She wasn’t easily intimidated. Maybe he needed a reminder.
This new hospital assignment didn’t include being on call. She shut the phone off and carefully placed it on the kitchen counter as if it actually might be a tracking device.
Then she left the apartment, and this time she headed in the opposite direction from the one she usually took. Perhaps she’d just happen to run into the devil and make him squirm for a change.
Chapter 23
Blackwater River State Forest
Brodie wanted to be with Jason, but she knew Scout couldn’t be distracted while he worked. So she stayed focused on the medical examiner. She enjoyed watching how Vickie and Agent Maggie worked together. It looked like they’d been doing it for years, but Brodie was sure the two women had only met this morning.
They approached each flag with the same process, no matter what the contents were that the flag marked. In one spot, Brodie couldn’t see anything in the grass. That didn’t surprise her. She understood that Grace could smell things that might be buried deep underground. What did surprise her was that Vickie took photos of each site, whether or not there was anything visible on the surface.
She was careful and deliberate, getting down on her knees and gently waving her hands through the grass then raking the top of the dirt with gloved fingertips. A couple of times she found pieces so small Brodie had no idea how Vickie knew they were important.
Maggie stood on the other side of the medical examiner, ready with assorted evidence bags. Vickie asked for a specific size, Maggie handed it down to her, and Vickie placed an item. Then she lifted it up to Maggie and told her what to write. Maggie sealed each envelope or bag and set it aside to be picked up later.
Brodie recognized that the medical examiner’s process included working the crime scene in a counterclockwise motion. When finished, she left the flag in the ground but took out a black marker and drew a letter and a number on it. Brodie could see the letters and numbers matched the ones Maggie put on the evidence bags.
They took breaks in between with both women wiping the sweat from their faces and drinking a whole lot of water. Brodie didn’t mind the heat. She’d s
pent days on end locked in airless closets, dirty sheds and a damp basement. Now, with her hair cut short she no longer had to worry about wet strands wrapping around her neck like a noose.
She wore loose-fitting T-shirts and lightweight cargo pants, most of which didn’t cling to her. And shoes! The miracle of shoes. She had lived years without anything protecting her feet, and the scars were still an unpleasant reminder.
Brodie joined Vickie and Maggie and gulped down another bottle of water, because she knew it was good for her, even though she could go longer without it. One of Iris Malone’s punishments was to withhold food and water. It was probably the cruelest of her punishments. Brodie’s stomach would hurt so bad that by the time the woman left a cup of water and a slice of bread, Brodie’s insides rejected both. She’d gulp down the water and before she finished the bread, all of it came back up.
Brodie’s therapist, Dr. Rockwood, told her it was okay to remember those things. “But don’t let them hurt you anymore. Don’t let Iris Malone have any more power,” she had said just as recently as last week when they did their weekly Zoom chats. “Every time you remember something bad, follow it up with something that’s now good in your life.”
There was so much good. If only she trusted that it wouldn’t all go away. Ryder seemed to think that he needed to protect her from everything as if he could make up for what she had gone through. She didn’t know how to convince him that what she’d gone through had actually made her stronger.
Nevermind. Dr. Rockwood’s assignment was an easy one, and Brodie quickly thought about Hannah’s chocolate chip cookies, how they smelled and tasted fresh out of the oven. Probably an odd thing to think about surrounded by what smelled like rotten garbage. Which made Brodie also grateful for Hannah’s red kerchief and her magic concoction. The flies and mosquitoes buzzed everywhere without landing on her. Swarms of flies were like black clouds over certain areas, and they were approaching one of those right now.
It wasn’t until they reached the third flag that Brodie felt a gasp escape her throat. Thankfully, neither of the women acknowledged it. And Brodie didn’t feel embarrassed when she noticed Maggie take two steps back and wipe a hand under her nose.
“More maggots,” the FBI agent muttered under her breath.
This man wasn’t buried at all. Instead, Brodie thought it looked like he was simply lying down under the tree, right in the middle of tall grass that grew around him. Vines had begun to climb over him.
But the flies. Masses of flies...and maggots. Bunches of the black insects squirmed covering his eyes and nose. His mouth, too, because his lips looked like they were moving.
It was disgusting, and yet, Brodie couldn’t take her eyes away.
Vickie waved a hand to disperse some of the flies, knocking them away. She bent over the body with an empty specimen cup ready to fill. As she plucked a handful of maggots, the flies were back swarming the plastic container. She popped the lid on and stepped away. Then she pulled out a bottle of isopropyl alcohol. Brodie had seen her do this before. It seemed to be the only thing that killed the chunky inchworms. But this time Vickie stopped. She left the lid on and held up the specimen cup to get a closer look.
“These guys are smaller,” she said.
Maggie and Brodie leaned in for looks of their own. Brodie realized she wouldn’t know the difference.
“Does that mean something?” Maggie asked.
Vickie shrugged and said, “They’re moving a lot slower, too.”
“Heat and humidity?” Maggie suggested.
“No, I don’t think that’s it. Toxicology might have an answer.”
Maggie’s cell phone chimed. She pulled it out of her back pocket and looked at the message.
“Ryder says there are thunderstorms coming our way.”
Brodie noticed the FBI agent wince as she looked up. It was almost impossible to see anything other than slices of sky through the thick mass of branches and leaves, but Brodie knew why Maggie looked anxious. She figured it was the same reason Grace now got scared at the sound of thunder. It was only three months ago that both of them had been battered by tornadoes.
“If that’s the case,” Vickie said, “there’s one other thing we need to get before the rains wash it away.”
She gestured for them to follow her. Brodie caught Maggie biting her lip as she glanced up at the sky again
Chapter 24
Brodie came up beside Vickie. They stood over the flag stuck between giant tree roots that snaked out of the ground in different directions. Scrub grass shot up in places clinging to what little dirt there was.
“Ryder mentioned a skull somewhere down here,” Vickie said. “I want to see if I can grab it before the rains move it.”
She took a couple of photos then pulled on gloves and kneeled down. Brodie watched her readjusting herself. The roots didn’t make it easy to work. She gently wiped away some of the debris, sending little green tree frogs jumping. At least there weren’t any flies to compete with here.
Vickie pulled out a small flashlight and started shooting the beam down into holes between a web of roots.
“There it is,” Vickie said and handed the flashlight up to Brodie.
“Can you hold this at an angle and shine it right there.” She pointed exactly where she wanted the stream of light to hit.
Brodie got to her knees, too, then shifted to her feet. The roots were impossible to kneel on. When Vickie moved out of the way Brodie could see the round white orb. The light made it stand out against the dark debris and muck that surrounded it.
Vickie pulled her glove higher up her arm. She had to push more dirt and grass away from the hole to make room for her hand. She sat down, then stretched out on her side.
From behind them Maggie said, “Can’t you use your handy contraption?”
“Won’t fit.”
“How do you know there’s not an animal down there?” Maggie asked. “Or a snake?”
Without glancing up at the FBI agent, Vickie said, “Not helpful.”
She repositioned herself then plunged her hand inside the hole.
There wasn’t enough room for Brodie to shine the light around her. Nor was there enough room for Vickie to see, once her arm plugged the hole. She’d need to find the skull by feel.
The medical examiner released a sigh of frustration. Her loud huff startled both Brodie and Maggie.
“My arm’s too short,” Vickie said, looking up at Maggie’s arm.
“No, don’t even ask,” Maggie told her. “This is where I draw a line.”
“I can do it,” Brodie said.
Both women looked at her. They exchanged a glance and Maggie said, “Brodie, you’ve been a great help, but you don’t need to do this. I’m sure the CSU tech will have a way to get it.”
“She’s right.” Vickie waved her gloved hand at her as if it wasn’t a big deal. But only minutes, ago the medical examiner was concerned the skull might be taken farther underground by the rains.
“I really don’t mind,” Brodie told them. “This person has a family somewhere. They might still be wondering what happened to him...or her.” When they didn’t respond she added, “And I have really long, thin arms.”
It was Vickie who gave in. Maggie’s only response was to glance up at the sky again.
The crisscross of roots jutting up and over made it uncomfortable to lie down. Vickie found a way to insert the flashlight into a neighboring hole that lit up the hollow. It ended up not being much help, because in order to extend her arm, Brodie had to shift to her belly. Her cheek rubbed against the gnarled roots. She could smell mold and dirt, but none of this was worse than what she’d experienced living at the whim of Iris Malone.
By the time her fingers felt the smooth bone, Brodie was shoulder deep in the burrow. Her hand wasn’t big enough to secure it in her palm. She tried to wrap her fingers around it but couldn’t get a grip. Then her forefinger poked and looped through something. In her mind she realized it might be th
e eye socket.
“I got it!” she said, forcing the image away and finally getting a hold on it.
Maggie and Vickie helped pull her up. She hadn’t noticed how far she’d dived in. They had to untangle some roots so the skull could come through.
There was a rumble of thunder. They hadn’t even heard Ryder and Norwich return.
“Brodie, what are you doing?” Ryder wanted to know.
Chapter 25
Creed almost panicked when he saw Brodie stretched out on the ground. Even after he realized what she was doing, he wasn’t happy about it. He couldn’t believe the medical examiner allowed her to help like this. And he couldn’t believe Maggie allowed it.
But Brodie raised the skull to show him, and she was absolutely beaming. She continued to surprise him.
Besides, there were other things to worry about. By the time he and Norwich got back at the clearing, the sunshine had already begun disappearing. Norwich’s CSU tech and deputy were unrolling lightweight tarps and pulling out bungee cords. They’d secure the tarps as best as possible over the victims’ bodies and the other visible remains.
Creed knew Mark Hadley, the crime scene tech. Hadley had been at the Santa Rosa Sheriff’s Department for a least a decade. The two had worked alongside each other several times before. Hadley was quiet and serious, but always kind and respectful to Creed’s dogs. They exchanged a nod.
He wanted to ask Hadley why he hadn’t retrieved the skull, instead he asked, “Need some help?”
“Nope, we got this,” Hadley said, shooting a look at the deputy already helping him as if he hoped that was true.
Norwich’s deputy looked a bit young to Creed. His eyes were too wide. His head swiveled, taking in everything as if it were brand new to him. Half of his shirt was tucked in. The rest puckered out of his waistband, bunching up and spilling over his holster. It was also sweat-drenched. Creed couldn’t help thinking if the man needed to grab his weapon in a hurry he’d probably end up with a handful of wet shirttail.
